


Wreckage

by Domina



Series: A Shattered Library [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, Will add tags as this grows, probably major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5101598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domina/pseuds/Domina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place where I'll be tossing all my Solavellan drabbles, random one-shots about Solas and/or Lavellan, etc. Drabble-specific tags will be posted at the start of every entry.</p><p>The work tags and content rating will likely change as this evolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wreckage

 

[Angst, Major Character Death]

**What Pride Had Wrought, Redux**

 

They had run out of time, but so had she.

With a heart-wrenching cry she fell to her knees, shaking, surrounded by the light from her anchor. The mark on her hand had been a symbol of hope; it was a rune, now, one that sealed her fate and held it beyond his grasp. Bright green fissures made their way up the hand that he used to hold, spread across the neck that he used to nibble, parted the lips that made him ache. The void would take her, if it could.

None but he could have borne the mark and lived. But how many times did he look into her ebon eyes and wonder if  _she_ could? How many times had he watched her run into battle, aglow with the glorious light of a righteous fire, and wonder if a spirit of valor would prove him wrong?

So he knelt, whispering fervently under his breath, that he could fix what pride had wrought.

“Solas,” she gasped, his name somehow making it through amidst the horror. He could barely breathe from the tightness in his chest or the lump growing in his throat, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. 

“ _Vhenan_ ,” he whispered fiercely, “I  _will_ fix this.” With both hands he seized hers; he noticed how cold her smooth skin was becoming, but pushed it out of his mind.

Her sobs melted into the background as he focused on her body. He sent probes of magic shooting through her like a thousand eyes, searching for a choke point -  _any_ piece of her that the anchor had not claimed. The mark had moved fast. Too fast, because he found only one place that his magic had not spoiled.

And it was her heart.

He closed his eyes, turning his head. It was too late.

His beloved’s cries had fallen to a whimper, now, and he  _knew._ He forced himself to look into her eyes, deep brown supplanted by Fade green. His anchor was sinking. He was powerless to stop it. 

“ _Ir abelas, ma sa’lath_ ,” he managed while taking her into his arms. But she could not hear. She was present yet far away, eyes looking beyond the Crossroads. His fingers trembled as they brushed her hair from her face; he did not deserve to hold her, to even  _touch_ her like this.

“Cole,” she murmured. “Tell them. Tell them not to give up on him. That there is hope.” 

He could hear shouting from afar while she faded away. “My love,” he choked. He could only bury his face in her hair and wait as he heard her people, calling for her as they searched for her. Searched for  _him_. He brought her closer to him as if the warmth meant that she was still there.

“You MONSTER!” he could hear the Iron Bull’s growl grow into a roar. Even with his eyes closed he could see Dorian blazing with magic as he drew from the Fade. He knew what lay beneath their voices; after all, his own sounded like theirs, once. He had heard it all before.

He deserved to die, he knew. As feet pounded the earth he knew he deserved no less than death, knew that he should pay the price -

_And yet._

When his vision cleared, he began to raise his head. A sharp pinch told him that the Iron Bull’s axe was close - within a heartbeat away from the base of his neck. With a sigh he eased his beloved to the ground and maneuvered around Bull’s weapon. He grimaced at the three new statues that he would leave in his wake, silent relics of his sins.

“Fen’Harel.” 

Abelas waited for him at the Eluvian, hands gently clasped behind his back. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “ _Mana_ ,” he said, smoothing his voice quickly. Abelas kept a respectful distance as he took his heart and rose with her in his arms.

“The Crossroads are decaying faster than we thought,” Abelas said softly. 

“I know.”

“We cannot bury her here.”

“I know. I will bury her elsewhere. Do not trouble yourself with it; the duty is mine alone.”

Abelas remained silent as he approached, and bowed his head. He would bury his beloved somewhere far beyond the reach of gods and men, where the earth could not claim her for itself.

It would take all the restraint he had from tearing the world apart now in his grief. He would have it all burn, swept up in the embers of chaos as he tore at his eyes, his chest, his Veil. But there were obligations still unmet. The abomination they called this world would be spared, and meet its fate another day.

Soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble based on this [tumblr](http://surrenderyoursodas.tumblr.com/post/130196975751) post by [@surrenderyoursodas](http://surrenderyoursodas.tumblr.com/)


End file.
